


beautiful.

by serendipitys



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, au where they're fuckin happy boys!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 15:23:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitys/pseuds/serendipitys
Summary: i was once given an essay to write what 'beautiful' was. i came up with this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> MY DUMBASS ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THIS I CANT STOP LAUGHING BUT HERE IT IS AGAIN

 Eddie was always told that home was a wonderful place . A safe , warm abode where he can lie in and do what he wishes . Home to him was a venue that smelled of honey and rosewater , mixed with the aroma of newly baked pancakes and homemade chocolate chip cookies . Wooden floors were scattered with sunflower seeds failed to be sown and endless cut off threads that didn't make it into the dresses . Ceiling was adorned with flowers in pots hanged by some type of wire , he couldn't really recall what they called it . Home was home . Home was _this_ perfect place .

     Yet to Eddie Gluskin , home was not a place . Home was a person. Home was an embrace .

     And home was created in the form of sun - kissed tan skin that reminded him of the sunny beaches' sand he always wanted to run on ever since he was a kid , with honeydew hair that shone as bright as the sun in a perfectly clear day . Home smelled of newly made coffee in the morning and was always in old , raggy clothes but the man could care less about his fashion sense .

    Home was given the name of Waylon Park. And home was beautiful.

   He had just woken up only to find his loving wife ( or husband , at least . Waylon didn't really mind what he addressed him as ) flipping pancakes for the lovers' breakfasts. He was _still_ in those cute , alien - patterned pajamas that he had bought for him 3 years ago on their first anniversary . With a grin etched on his face , the tailor had run up behind the other and coiled his arms around his waist . Surprised was the boy thus jumped up slightly , head shooting behind him only for his lips to meet another pair : warm , warm , _warm_ like a cup of fresh milk he'd make for him on nights he was sick. And like milk he was sweet , creamy , _tasty :_ a treat to be savored .

    When the kiss ended , breathes are mixed and pants are in sync . Lids flutter open like a butterfly's wing , sunshine smile coating the man's lips . " Good morning to you too , you dork. " says Waylon .

    " I couldn't help myself , I apologize darling. Did I appear too rude? Too eager for your tastes? " Eddie says , a cocky tone flavoring his words . This is what they are : snarky from time to time , yet loving . Words seemed honeyed and artificial but they swear their love for one another is true . This is what they _are :_  beautiful , beautiful , _beautiful ._

   " I know , sweetheart . I wasn't complaining. " He grins , returning to the pancakes . And it's a surprise that he can manage to do so perfectly , so hypnotizing and mesmerizing----- that was what he was : enamoring in every little way . He can make the smallest actions and gestures play like a pas de deux , a piece of art . 

   Head's buried deep within his neck , inhaling his scent . He smells like flowers . He smells like beautiful , and beautiful wasn't a smell but somehow miracles exist and here's one wrapped around his arms and this miracle's managed to make beautiful a smell . " Mmm , sorry ...  I just ... Sometimes , I feel as if this was a dream  . As if this was but mere fantasy , I still am in awe that this is reality . That you and I ... we're beautiful. "

   " Oh , but this _is_ a dream. "

  Heartbeat ceases . Breath's hitched .

  " Wake up , Eddie . You're lost in your little own fantasies again . Dreams are beautiful. Reality is not. "

   And his word was true . Because here lies reality : where his venue was adjacent to the dirty sea that reeked of blood and found near stormy weathers . The floor was scattered with dead bodies rather than sunflower seeds , and hanged in the ceilings were rotting corpses rather than pots of flowers . In reality , home was non existent .

  But home was a person. And that person was going to walk away , slowly and slowly fading from his sight .

   He wants to cry . He wants to scream . He wants to struggle and run and chase him and catch him and wrap him around his arms because his heart is aching with homesickness and he just wishes to kiss and taste home sweet home . But he can't , not with this metal impaling him deep and creating agonizing pain in his abdomen . The slightest movement alone created so  ,  so much pain. _Funny_ , though . How _that_ still felt better than the pain that stroke his chest like a harpoon piercing the fragile veil of flesh . 

   And there goes home , leaving him . Just like everything else . Home was holds a camera , with a terrified look on his face . Home cried whimpers and screams rather than sweet , candied words of love . His hand held home's hand , tightly , so _tightly :_  not wanting to let go but he must . 

     A wish is said , a wish is whispered . A wish is let go just like him letting go of home's hand . He's thrown back to the ceiling alone with his failed wives , _divorces ._  And everyone who sees him says that that is his home .

     " _We could have been beautiful_. "  

     And now home's running away with a camera in his hands , not feeling the need to turn back . not even in the slightest . He'll leave him here to rot and die and he wouldn't even care . He wouldn't even think of him or the sadness that was burning in his decaying blue eyes .

   Waylon was gone . Eddie was a goner .

   This is what they are not : beautiful , beautiful , _beautiful ._


End file.
